


The Beauty is You, Kid

by spideys_ass



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fireworks, First Kiss, Fluff, Fourth of July, M/M, Mentions of PTSD, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Hiding His Vulnerability Behind Glasses, prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:55:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25066528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spideys_ass/pseuds/spideys_ass
Summary: Sweet first kisses during fireworks.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 72





	The Beauty is You, Kid

**Author's Note:**

> From my webslingers-ass tumblr inbox, “What about writing something for the holidays?” I assume the holiday being referred to here is Independence Day, lol.

“Figured you might be up here.” 

Tony walked from the door to the roof over to Peter. The kid was sat on the edge of the roof, his legs dangling over the edge, and when he looked down, he’d see the outline of his feet, and the bright halo from the city lights that defined them.

Mr. Stark crouched down, sitting next to him on the ledge, and that’s when Peter noticed he was carrying two drinks in one hand, and two... sticks in the other. He’d set them down between them, pushing one of the glasses towards the kid. The man looked like a dream like always, fitted suit a deep red, his colored glasses he was always so fond of hanging from his shirt, instead of hiding his eyes.

“Hoped you could use the company.” Tony smiles warmly at him, and it was like everything that was Tony was flooding his senses.

Peter breathed in sharply. “If the company is you, Mr. Stark, always.” It was true. After coming back, it was only Mr. Stark’s attention he ever sought after, even though he’d admit he’d been a little distant with the man recently. All he wanted was Tony, but that was the problem. He wanted Tony. 

“Have the drink, the catering for this thing was well worth it.” And for the first time since Tony’d joined him on the roof, he looked away from the man. The little glass he’d brought for him was admittedly very pretty, containing a cute themed slushie, blue at the bottom, yellow— _gold_ , Peter corrected himself, red on top, and little gold edible star shaped sprinkles to top it off. Tony really did always love his theming. Maybe it gave him an ego trip, Peter mused, to see everyone at his party carrying around drinks with more resemblance to Tony’s colors than to the American flag. 

“Yours in non-alcoholic, I swear.” _Mine? Just mine is?_ Peter almost wanted to ask, but he didn’t want to offend the man, even if he was just trying to establish some banter. Peter took a sip. Watermelon.

“The fireworks are about to start soon.” Peter glanced back at Tony, and even in the pseudo-dark the hero looked so warm, so comforting at his side. Peter never wanted to lose this. It was just enough to be romantic, enough that he couldn’t see the blemishes on the man’s face, but enough that there was a cool haze around him, the city lights reflected in his eyes. _Wow,_ Peter thought. _He really was head over heels._

“Yeah, that’s why I’m here kid.”

“You wanted to watch them with... me?” It wasn’t anything entirely too special. Peter’s not about to start writing an essay about how firework-watching is one of the most intimate activities people could partake in, obviously, but there was still some part of him that was glad to be included. The man wanted to watch the beautiful light show next to him. Maybe the intimacy he was thinking of just had him confused with New Years’. 

“Uh, yeah.” The man looked down, fiddling with the sticks in his hands. “Hey, I brought sparklers! I didn’t know if maybe that was something you’d want to do?” The sticks. Sparklers...

“I’ve never done one, Mr. Stark, but I’d love to.” He took the one that was held out towards him, touching the cold, smooth metal stick. It was quite a contrast to the muggy heat they were breathing in. 

Mr. Stark inhaled, surprised. “Wow. Okay, city-boy, I’ll show you how it’s done.” He reaches into his pocket for a lighter, and lit the edge of his sparkler on fire. “See? Pretty. Gimme yours, kid.” Peter held out his sparkler towards him, and before he could comprehend that the flame touched the sparkler’s edge, it was cracking, the angry sparks flying everywhere, so chaotic. It reminded him of harder times, of Doctor Strange’s portals, and of fighting for not just his life, but Mr. Stark’s as well on that orange planet. He boxed that away while looking at the jumpy flame. It sure was pretty. 

“Like a mini firework you can hold in your hand.” Tony said, and yeah, that seemed about right. They stared mostly in silence at each other while the sparklers ran through their fuel, occasionally staring glances at each other. 

“It was very pretty. I loved it, Mr. Stark.” 

“Tony, kid. We’re gonna have to work on that.”

Peter tsked. “Peter, Tony. ‘M not a kid.” 

And Mr. Stark shot him _some kind of look_ , and Peter knew nothing of what it meant. 

It meant, _don’t I know it_. Not that Tony wanted Peter particularly enlightened. 

“Peter.” He said his name like he was tasting it, trying it out on his tongue, seeing if it fit there. Peter hoped to God that it did. “It’s gonna be loud soon, so I um, brought these,” He pulled two pairs of connected little marble-like figures from his pocked. “Noise filtering.” He held them out for Peter, and he took them. “Only if you want them.” 

Peter’s breath hitched, and he wanted to say _of course, Mr. Stark. I want everything you’d offer me._ but that’d probably make him seem even more infatuated and dull-witted. He settled on a “Thank you.” and he put the little pods in his ears, watching Tony do the same.

So Mr. Stark didn’t like the loud noises. He couldn’t blame them, the fireworks sounded like a hundred different explosions happening all at once. Tony hid his PTSD so well, from everyone, or at least, he tried to, constantly deflecting and skilfully putting his silver tongue to use and talking himself out of the situation. With Peter though, he noticed the mask was gone. It was never directly addressed, but Tony didn’t seem to hide it from him, little details like this just being accepted for what they were. 

Peter felt flattered to be treated that way. He didn’t know what made him different. Maybe it was because the man knew he understood, having his own symptoms arise occasionally. 

When the fireworks did start, there were soft noises, like the sound of popcorn popping in the microwave, instead of the destruction that could be caused by explosions. There were all kinds of pretty fireworks. Some the kind that trail up forever in one single line, then explode, some that look like weeping willow trees as their glimmer fades down, and other ghost ones that come back in another color as soon as they disappeared. 

Peter glanced at Tony, to catch him quickly turning his head back to the sky. This continued on throughout the fiery performance, sneaky looks at each other, watching the light paint their body gold, blue, or red, as the firework initially explodes. Each watching the sparkles dance in similar brown eyes. 

The finale isn’t any different, except there is so much light, so much color, their bodies light up white. 

“That was beautiful.” Peter breathed, still staring at the sky, at the smoke bog down the city.

“Not as beautiful as you.” Peter quickly turned to gawk at Tony, and he saw the raw look of adoration reflected on his face. Peter blushed. It was common for Peter to look at Tony like that, but he’d never seen that expression on the other man’s face. He’s blown away by the fact that Tony Stark would call him beautiful. He’d have been content to just continue to revel in the moment, but Tony reaches to his neck, he intended to pick up his glasses, intended to slide them onto his face, hiding his eyes, hiding that portal to his soul. 

But Peter doesn’t want that. He wants to stare into that beautiful soul all night.

“No.” It’s quiet, especially with the sound dampeners in their ears, but it makes it soft, as well. And maybe it’s not his verbal disagreement that made Tony hesitate, likely it’s the hand that reached out at him, Peter’s fingertips just slightly brushing Tony’s stilled hand. They’re frozen in time, only for a moment, before Peter scoots closer to him, knocking the drinks over off the ledge to their side of the roof. It’s not like it’s loud or disruptive anyway, to them. 

Peter reached out, tentatively, for the glasses, and slowly removes them from the shirt, confiscating them. Their eyes were connected the entire time, Peter only hoping whatever Tony found in his eyes was what he wanted. It was. Where Tony looked, he saw insight and compassion. The thought of being truly accepted for the first time by this darling boy before him made his eyes glisten with unshed tears. 

The above made Tony weak, his resolve crumbled, and he felt himself lean in towards Peter, the boy following suit. Their lips ghosted each other before they let their eyelids fall shut, and finally they pushed. Each pair working against— working _with_ the other. They fell apart, away for a moment, and once their breath was caught, their lips were grazing each other’s once more, and they gave in, gave in to this mutual devotion. They kissed, basking in the glow of the city and each other.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> I made a moodboard for this fic here: https://webslingers-ass.tumblr.com/post/622708724688191489/fourth-of-july-starker-moodboard-for-my-fic-the


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